


Ghosting

by Arch_ie



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Past Character Death, ghost!ryan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-08-06 18:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16392773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arch_ie/pseuds/Arch_ie
Summary: Jeremy moves into a house in Los Santos, only to find there's another occupant. Some haunting and one compromise later, they learn to live together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this for over a year but hadn't found the motivation until now. I haven't finished writing it all yet, but it should be done in the next two weeks.
> 
> There's a playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/archi-ie/playlist/3tn4bZFrNRrtGSfetCHFJj?si=aTGIId1FRjSkoq_Gv-juZw) if you want to listen

The house isn’t the biggest or the nicest, but it holds itself up and it was the perfect price for Jeremy. It had to have been worth much more than it was up for, but Jeremy has never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he shut his mouth and took the keys from the relieved looking realtor without any questions.

Regardless, the house is able to stand on its own and isn’t falling apart inside, so Jeremy considers himself lucky. A house in Los Santos isn’t something that is easy to come by, especially not one as secluded as the one Jeremy bought – something necessary since he’s, you know, a criminal.

Sure, lots of criminals live in apartment buildings, but Jeremy knows from experience just how much _work_ it takes to hide the fact you kill people for a living from your neighbours, and he was happy to finally have a house of his own.

The house itself isn’t the largest, but it’s not the smallest either – it has two bedrooms and a bathroom, and there’s a large living room and a decent kitchen and that’s all that really matters to Jeremy.

Los Santos is a new city for Jeremy, a new start with a new crew. He won’t be working on his own with just his two friends anymore, he’s going to be working with a whole _crew_ , and isn’t that just something.

He just has to unpack, which was not something he _wants_ to do after his trip from Boston, but he’s starting with the crew the next day and he’s not sure exactly how busy he’ll be after that, so he figures it best to get the unpacking out of the way as soon as possible.

Not that he has that much to unpack, just a couple boxes of clothes and sheets and a few personal belongings, really. Plus a bed, a shitty couch, a small tv, and some game consoles that his friends – Matt and Trevor – would be dropping off later, along with his cats.

Letting out a sigh, Jeremy gets out of his car and makes his way to the backseat, where the first of his boxes are jammed in. Luckily, it’s early morning and he had been given the keys to the house the night before, so he has all day to get unpacked.

He grabs the first box and pulls it out, heading up the driveway towards the front door of his new house. He sets the box down in order to unlock and open the door, then picks it back up to place it inside.

The house immediately opens up into the living room, the kitchen towards the back left and a small hall down the right with the bedrooms and bathroom. It’s not much, but it’s home, now.

He puts the first box down and heads back out.

As Jeremy continues unpacking, he tries to keep the boxes stacked nicely and contained in one area, but every time he leaves and comes back he can’t help but feel like something has moved. When he’s done unpacking the car and starts looking through the boxes, he finds they aren’t in the order that he thought he left them in, but he brushes it off as misremembering due to the tiredness from the move.

Soon enough, Matt and Trevor arrive, lugging with them his furniture. They spend the next few hours moving everything in and positioning them before they go to grab Jeremy’s three cats, and that’s when Jeremy really _should_ have started to see something weird happening.

When they place the cages on the floor in the living room and open them up, none of the cats leave their cage. When Jeremy goes to try and grab Scooter, the cat hisses at him – something he had never done before.

“Weird,” Trevor says with a shrug, and Jeremy sighs.

“Maybe they’re just nervous about the move,” Matt suggests, as though Jeremy hasn’t spent most of his adult life moving from apartment to apartment with them.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replies, and that’s the end of it.

Matt and Trevor don’t stay long, just long enough to make sure Jeremy is settled before they say their goodbyes and head out the door.

It doesn’t matter much, anyway, considering they’re all starting the same job tomorrow.

A few weeks ago, Matt got a call from Rooster Teeth, a well-known crew spread across the country. They offered a job in Los Santos for the three of them, having heard of them through the grapevine for some time. They immediately accepted, of course, because it was the chance of a lifetime.

It wasn’t Jeremy’s dream, but it was close.

See, before Rooster Teeth came to Los Santos, they had an associated crew, known as the Fake AH Crew, that practically ran the place for years – pulling off outrageous and difficult heists and keeping other crews and gangs in line. They were notorious around the country, and even the world, and considered some of the most dangerous people in the country. They were on the FIB’s most wanted list with a shoot on site order.

The crew was made up of five main people – Geoff Ramsey, their leader. Jack Pattillo, their pilot and second-in-command. Michael Jones, their demolitions expert. Gavin Free, their wildcard and golden boy, and last, but definitely not least, a man known only as the Vagabond. The Vagabond was a mystery, hiding behind a skull mask with no clues as to his real identity.

The way the crew worked together was amazing and they were Jeremy’s heroes, up until four years ago.

Four years ago, the Vagabond was killed, and the Fake AH Crew fell. It was sudden and shocking – the LSPD found and raided one of the Fakes’ safehouses that they just so happened to be hunkered down in after a heist. During the raid, the LSPD managed to shoot and kill the Vagabond, though the other’s escaped.

After the Vagabond’s death, the whole country was braced for the backlash – braced for the Fake AH Crew’s revenge, but it never came. Instead, they disappeared, and nothing has been heard from them since the day the Vagabond died.

When the Fake’s disappeared, Rooster Teeth sent a branch to hold some of their territory and continue some of the business the Fakes had done for them as associates prior to their disappearance.

When the Los Santos branch of Rooster Teeth contacted Matt about hiring them, Jeremy had been ecstatic, but a part of him was still disappointed that he would never get a chance to work with the Fake AH Crew, like he had always wanted.

The Fakes had been something special – they ran normal jobs and heists, but they also had these amazing, idiotic, _genius_ heists they would pull, seemingly just for the hell of it.

Jeremy had always wanted to be a part of that, when he was back in Boston struggling to get by, and everywhere he moved after that. Now he would get to be a part of Rooster Teeth, and while it wasn’t the same, he’d still get to run big-time heists that he never could have managed with just him, Matt, and Trevor. He would still get the rush he loves so much, and he’ll be getting a much bigger pay and even bigger challenges.

It wasn’t the Fake AH Crew, but it was still more than he could have ever hoped for.

Jeremy was happy with his life, now, for the first time in a long time – he had a new, cheap but nice house, a new amazing job, and his cats. He felt like things were finally looking up for him – so, naturally, that’s when things start to go wrong.

 

It starts with misplaced items – his keys, his dishes, his favourite shirt. Things innocent enough that he can brush it off as forgetfulness – as weird as the places he finds his things are.

Then, door and cupboards begin opening at random. He never _sees_ it, but he keeps finding them like that with no memory of leaving them open himself.

Soon after it starts, he looks up the symptoms of dementia, gets a carbon monoxide detector, and hopes he isn’t losing his mind.

It’s when the nightmares start that he begins to get concerned. Nightmares have been rare for him since he got used to his line of work, and suddenly getting bombarded by them nearly every night was definitely concerning. He doesn’t remember much about them when he wakes up – just a bang, shouting, a gunshot, and silence. It’s always the same. He tries not to dwell on it.

Then, things start breaking, but Jeremy brushes it off as his cats being assholes as they finally begin getting used to the new house, after spending the first two weeks slinking around, hissing and growling at nothing.

At least, he thinks that until one night, almost three weeks after moving even, he wakes from a nightmare to the sound of something shattering in the kitchen.

“Booker!” He shouts the name of his most troublesome cat, only to see said cat’s head pop up from where he’s curled up by Jeremy’s feet. That’s when he feels his blood run cold, because one quick look to the side shows his other two cats where they always sleep in his room.

“Shit,” He whispers, scrambling for the gun he keeps under his pillow.

His house alarm hasn’t gone off, but he’s not sure how much he trusts it, anyway, and he lives in a city full of criminals, at least half of which have to know how to disable a basic security system.

So, pistol in hand, he slowly makes his way to the kitchen, checking corners and listening closely for footsteps, but hears nothing.

When he makes it to the kitchen, he freezes, because that—

That is not something he ever expected to see.

It’s a man – or at least Jeremy _thinks_ it’s a man – but he’s translucent, and hovering about half a foot off the ground.

A fucking _ghost_ , Jeremy thinks, but he doesn’t really care what the fuck it is, because it’s _in his house_ , so he raises his pistol and aims for the things head.

“That’s not going to work,” The ghost says, looking bored, but Jeremy just glares and pulls the trigger. The bullet goes right through the ghost and embeds itself in the wall behind it. The ghost smirks, “Told you.”

“What the fuck,” Jeremy mutters, practically collapsing to sit on the floor because this _can’t be real_. It just can’t. Ghosts aren’t real, and they certainly aren’t part of Jeremy’s life, even if they are. The ghost doesn’t even look familiar.

God, he hopes it’s not one of the many people he’s killed, because _that_ would sure suck.

“Look,” The ghost says, “I’m just gonna get straight to the point, because I don’t have the patience to keep haunting you when you’re completely oblivious—”

“You’ve been haunting me?” Jeremy cuts off, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“ _Yes_ , I’ve been haunting you,” The ghost throws it’s arms up in the air, “What did you think kept happening with your stuff? Your cupboards? The things breaking?”

“I don’t know!” Jeremy throws his arms up, as well, “Why would I have assumed I’m being haunted? Ghosts don’t exist.”

The ghost fixes him with an unimpressed look, and Jeremy frowns.

“Okay, I guess ghosts exist, but how was I supposed to know that?”

“I did all the classic haunting stuff!” The ghost sounds exasperated, and Jeremy wonders it he should maybe calm it down before it kills him or something.

“Well obviously you didn’t do it well enough.” Jeremy retorts, completely ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him to _stop_.

“You know what?” The ghost snaps, “I’m just going to get straight to the point – _get out of my house_.”

Jeremy pauses, tilts his head, thinks for a moment, then—

“No.”

“What do you mean _no_?” The ghost looks outraged, and Jeremy’s survival instincts finally begin to kick in and he realizes he may not be handling this the best of ways.

“I just— I mean,” Jeremy starts, “This place was cheap, and there’s no other house I can afford in Los Santos, and I’m tired of apartments, and I’ve already bought it, so it’s kind of too late, anyway.”

The ghost glares.

“I don’t care,” The ghosts growls, “Just get out.”

“Look, man,” Jeremy says, placatingly, “I can’t leave, so why don’t we just make a compromise?”

“Sure,” The ghost replies, “You leave, I stay.”

“That’s not a compromise,” Jeremy starts to get frustrated, because it’s not even three in the morning and he’s arguing with a _ghost_ in his kitchen, “Why can’t we both just live here?”

“I don’t share,” The ghost responds, and Jeremy sighs.

“You sound like a child,” Jeremy tells it, and it looks so taken aback Jeremy almost laughs.

They fall into silence for a minute, and Jeremy runs a hand through his orange and purple hair.

“Look,” He says, “We can share. I’ll stay out of your way, and you can do whatever you want. I’ll even do my best to follow any rules you have. It’ll be just like we’re housemates, except you’re dead.”

For a moment, Jeremy thinks he’s gone too far, calling the ghost dead, because there’s a sudden silence between them, but then—

“Ryan.” The ghost says, and Jeremy frowns.

“What?”

“My name,” The ghost – Ryan? – sighs, “If we’re going to be housemates, you should probably know my name.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says, dumbly, “Right. I’m Jeremy.”

“I know,” Ryan replies, and Jeremy realizes that the ghost probably knows _a lot_ about him after almost three weeks of watching him meander around the house. Probably more than Jeremy would ever want him to. He decides it’s better not to dwell on it, and instead just watch himself from now on.

“Great,” Jeremy claps his hands together, “So can I go back to bed, then?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is admittedly not the best chapter but it's necessary & I promise the next one is better so please hang in there.

The next few days go by in a weird haze – Jeremy doesn’t see Ryan at all after that initial encounter in the kitchen, and he’s beginning to think that maybe it was just a strange dream when, on the third day, Ryan reappears.

Of course, it’s not in a normal way. Instead, Jeremy wakes up in a cold sweat in the dead of the night to Ryan hovering above him, staring at him intently.

“What the _fuck_?” Jeremy exclaims, shooting up onto his elbows. Beside him, Zipper hisses.

“What?” Ryan asks, frowning when Jeremy glares at him,

“Why are you watching me sleep?”

“I don’t exactly have anything better to do,” Ryan looks offended, and Jeremy can’t help but feel like _he_ should be the one offended, not Ryan.

“You could do literally anything else,” Jeremy suggests, and Ryan shrugs.

“Not really,” He says, and Jeremy pauses.

“What _can_ you do?” He asks, because their last conversation never got around to that and, sue him, he’s curious.

“Watch you.”

“ _Other_ than that,” Jeremy says, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Nothing, really,” Ryan responds, and his voice is quiet in a way Jeremy has yet to have heard.

“What have you been doing all this time, then?” Jeremy asks, and Ryan shrugs.

“Wandering.”

“Outside?”

“No, I can’t leave the house,” Ryan tells him, and Jeremy feels a little pull in his heartstrings.

“So you’ve just been wandering around the house for—Wait, how long have you been dead?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan scoffs, “I don’t exactly have a way to tell time.”

“What year did you die?” Jeremy asks, and Ryan frowns.

“2014.”

“God, no wonder you’ve been watching me sleep,” Jeremy says, “You’ve been wandering this house for four years.”

“Four years?” Ryan echoes, and Jeremy thinks if he were alive he would look vaguely sick. He suddenly wishes he had broken the news a different way – it’s not every day you learn you’re been dead almost half a decade, after all.

“It’s 2018 now,” Jeremy tells Ryan, voice a little gentler now.

“What month is it?” Ryan asks, his voice quiet.

“October.”

“October,” Ryan echoes again, voice strained now, and Jeremy can’t help but feel bad for the ghost, but before he can say anything Ryan speaks again, “I have to go.”

With that, Ryan disappears, leaving Jeremy lying on his elbows and Zipper with his ears pressed back against his head.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Jeremy says after a moment, reaching over and patting his side before lying down and trying to forget the broken sound of Ryan’s voice when he found out how long he’s been dead.

 

Life goes on, and another week goes by before Jeremy sees Ryan again. During that time, none of his items get mysteriously misplaced, nothing mysteriously breaks, and the cats don’t hiss at empty air. The nightmares, however, get worse, and Jeremy wakes up every night with a pounding heart and pain in the back of his head.

When Ryan finally reappears, he’s much more transparent than he was in their previous encounters. He’s slouched over in a way Jeremy hasn’t seen him before, and Jeremy was willing to bet if he were still alive his long hair would be oily and falling out of its ponytail.

“Hey buddy,” Jeremy says cautiously, looking up from the cereal he’s eating on his couch, not having gotten around to getting a table yet.

“Hi,” Ryan replies, voice small.

“What’s up?” Jeremy asks after a moment of silence, and Ryan’s shoulders slump even more.

“Could you…” Ryan’s reluctant voice trails off for a moment before coming back firmer, “Could you tell me about what’s happened in the last four years?”

“Sure,” Jeremy responds before shovelling a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. Ryan lets him finish the last couple spoonfuls in his bowl before he continues, “Anything specific you want to know?”

Ryan hesitates for a moment, like he’s trying to be careful about what he says. Jeremy thinks he must just be unsure what he wants to start with, exactly.

“Crime still the same?” Ryan settles on, finally, and it’s not too strange a thing to ask – everyone keeps an eye on crime in the city, whether they’re involved in it or not.

“Pretty much,” Jeremy says, “I’ve heard a lot of things have changed with crews and gangs, though.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks, and Jeremy wasn’t sure if he was imagining the way he tenses or not.

“I don’t know if you were around for it or not, but the Vagabond died about four years ago,” Jeremy starts, and Ryan nods tersely, “After that, the Fake AH Crew kind of just… Vanished. So, Rooster Teeth sent out a branch to hold onto some of their old territory while other crews fought over what Rooster Teeth couldn’t hold down. Things still haven’t fully settled – I don’t know all the details, since I’m pretty new to the city. I used to follow the Fakes pretty closely, though, so I know a lot about that stuff.”

“So the rest of the crew—they got away?” Ryan asks, something in his voice Jeremy can’t pinpoint, but he nods anyway.

“As far as the world knows, the Fakes are still out there somewhere, doing god knows what,” Jeremy tells him.

“Maybe they finally decided to settle down,” Ryan suggests, a hopeful lilt to his voice, but Jeremy shakes his head.

“Honestly, I think they just couldn’t handle the Vagabonds death,” Jeremy says, “I mean, they were all so close, and losing someone like that… I think they just couldn’t do it anymore, without him.”

Ryan looks sad now as he nods, something sorrowful in his eyes that Jeremy wishes he could make go away.

“Anything else you wanna know?” Jeremy asks, and Ryan shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” He says, then pauses, “You know, you’re taking this whole ghost thing really well.”

It’s an obvious out from the conversation, so Jeremy rolls with it.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of weird shit in my life, buddy,” Jeremy tells him, “A ghost is nothing compared to them.”

“I don’t know whether I should be offended,” Ryan jokes, and—okay, it’s not a good joke, but it’s a _joke_.

“So, what about other tenants?” Jeremy asks, because he’s curious, “Has the house just been empty for four years?”

“God, no,” Ryan says, “Lots of people have tried to live here. They usually realize they’re being haunted pretty fast and I just escalate until they leave. I’ve never had someone stay over a month before.”

“But I’m different,” Jeremy says, and Ryan nods slowly, studying him.

“You’re different.”

 

Jeremy goes to work and life goes on for the next two weeks, Ryan appearing sporadically to ask him about small things – like who’s the president, or what famous people have died, or how the city has changed. They don’t talk about the Fake AH Crew again, but Jeremy doesn’t really find that strange. Most people aren’t as fascinated with them as he is.

He has questions, too, about Ryan being a ghost, but he never asks. Every time he tells himself he’ll ask the next time he sees Ryan, but every time he backs out. Ryan seems to be warming up to him, but he’s still worried that the ghost will go back to trying to make life in his house unbearable if he does something to set him off. So, better to just keep his questions to himself for as long as he can.

Eventually, though, Jeremy’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“So you can touch things, right?” Jeremy asks one day while he’s eating his dinner and Ryan is looking through his stuff.

“Yeah,” Ryan replies, glancing away from his video game collection to raise an eyebrow at Jeremy.

“How does that work?” He asks carefully, and Ryan frowns.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Ryan tells him, “It takes some kind of energy, I guess. I only have so much of it, and showing myself uses a lot. I can only touch things when I’m not corporeal, but it also uses energy to be able to interact with things.”

“What happens when you run out of energy?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan voice wavers, “Things just… Go black, and when I come to again, things are different. I don’t know how much time passes, or where I go, I just know I’m… nowhere and nothing for a little while, until my energy replenishes.”

“That sucks,” Jeremy says, and Ryan nods.

He doesn’t ask anything else, after that, but Ryan hadn’t seemed to have any problems with answering Jeremy’s questions, so he thinks it might be safe to ask more, so long as he keeps away from asking anything too personal.

He thinks asking about ghostly-things is probably a safe bet.

 

Ryan starts showing up more and more, after that. He isn’t as standoffish and seems to maybe, possibly be warming up to Jeremy. He’s glad for that, because being alone for four years can’t have been easy, even if it was he fault for scaring everyone away.

One day, he asks.

“Why have you been scaring away everyone who comes to the house?”

Ryan freezes from where he’s bothering Booker, who’s crouched in a corner hissing at him while he coos.

“Wouldn’t you?” Ryan asks, something dark in his voice that makes Jeremy tense, “Would you want people traipsing around your deathbed, disrespecting you when they know you died here or being so oblivious they don’t even know what happened, or just don’t care?”

“You died here?” Jeremy asks, voice quiet, and Ryan laughs, cold and bitter.

“Did you really not know that?”

“No, I didn’t,” Jeremy tells him softly, “Where did it happen?” Ryan glares at him at the question, so he quickly reiterates, “So I don’t disrespect you any more than I already have.”

Ryan is quiet for a minute, as though debating whether it’s something he wants Jeremy to know are not, as if it makes enough of a difference.

“The back door,” Ryan says, finally, and Jeremy nods.

“I won’t use that door anymore, then,” Jeremy tells him, and Ryan blinks slowly.

“You’ll do that?” Ryan asks, voice quiet, and Jeremy offers a smile.

“Of course,” He says, “It’s the least I can do. Like I said, we’re housemates now”

“Thank you,” Ryan says, looking Jeremy in the eye with a sincere little smile – the first real one Jeremy’s seen, and it practically blinds him.

Jeremy isn’t afraid to admit that Ryan is attractive, and if he were still alive he might have hit on him, but he’s not, so he doesn’t. Ryan is attractive in a way you wouldn’t expect – with stubble lining his chin and long hair pulled back in a ponytail, but not in a way that makes him look like a hippie. He has a dad-like look, but there’s also a dangerous air to him, if you look close enough. Jeremy writes it off as a ghost thing.

So, no, Jeremy isn’t afraid to admit to himself that Ryan is attractive, but he would never say that to the ghost.

“While we’re at it,” Jeremy says, clearing his throat, “Is there anything else you want? To make this feel more like home?”

Ryan gives Jeremy an unreadable look for a moment, then speaks.

“Books?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed at his thinks, “Sci-fi, in particular, whatever you can get your hands on. Oh, and plants! I like succulents mostly, but there’s some flowers I really like, too…”

Jeremy blinks at Ryan, then nods.

“Let’s make a list, then,” He says, because, really, it’s the least he can do.

He can’t imagine being stuck in a world where he can interact with no one and do nothing but wander an empty house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, let me know what you think and if there's any mistakes! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell off of updating this but I'm back. Thank you for the comments and I hope you like this chapter!

Jeremy’s job is going well – he hasn’t been a part of any big heists yet, but he’s been sent on a few smaller jobs, tagging along to arms deals and stealing back impounded cars. It’s not a lot, but it’s something to do, and he’s getting paid, so.

Matt, he knows, is playing more of a part, being such an amazing hacker. He’s been too busy to talk much, giving Jeremy only vague excuses about work that make Jeremy think there’s something big coming up.

Trevor, on the other hand, is in the same boat as him, and it isn’t until the other man asks Jeremy if he wants to hang out that he realizes he never asked Ryan if he would be okay with other people coming over. So, he agrees to hang out so long as they go to Trevor’s place, making a cheap excuse that he wants to get out of his house for a little while.

He’s not sure Trevor believes the excuse, but he doesn’t seem to care much as they make their way to Trevor’s apartment. Jeremy supposes that he has no reason to assume anything weird is going on with him, considering he’s shown no signs of anything being off while at work.

And there’s not anything off, really. Sure, having a ghost housemate is weird, but Ryan has stopped moving and breaking his things, and he doesn’t leave cupboards open for Jeremy to bang his head on anymore.

The nightmares, however, are still happening, albeit less often and severe. He only wakes up with a dull headache every few nights, now. He doesn’t bring up the nightmares to Ryan, because he’s not sure the other man realizes they’re happening. Hell, he’s not even sure they’re _related_ to Ryan, but it’s his best guess. He thinks that maybe it has something to do with his death, the main reason he doesn’t want to bring it up to Ryan just yet.

Either way, things with Ryan have been going surprisingly well, and he doesn’t want to mess that up by bringing over a guest without permission.

That night, when Jeremy gets back from Trevor’s place, Ryan is waiting for him.

“You’re late,” Ryan observes from where he’s sitting on Jeremy’s couch, Zipper beside him. Zipper was the first one to warm up to the ghost enough to tolerate being in the same space as him, the others still hissing whenever they see him and avoiding him like the plague.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jeremy says, kicking off his shoes, “I was over at my friend, Trevor’s, place. He wanted to hang out, and I wasn’t sure how you would feel about a guest.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, looking contemplative, “You can invite Trevor over, if you want. Matt, too. I won’t stop you, but they can’t stay long. Just a couple hours.”

“That’s fine,” Jeremy tells him, not questioning the fact he knows about Matt, considering he and Trevor were with him the day he moved in, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Ryan says, and Jeremy shoots him a grin, “I trust you.”

And that—

That warms something inside of Jeremy, because he and Ryan have only known each other a month and a half, and the ghost trusting him when he’s done nothing but chase out tenants for four years… That means a lot, even to a criminal like him.

He’s not sure how to reply, so instead he just goes to sit next to Ryan on the couch and flicks on the TV, and they stay like that for an hour in silence before Ryan disappears.

Jeremy thinks Ryan might be glad to have someone to just exist with again.

 

Jeremy goes out and buys a cartful of succulents for Ryan, arranging them around the house under Ryan’s careful instruction.

He buys a variety of books from a list he helped Ryan make – mostly science fiction, both modern and classic. He wonders how many of them Ryan had already read when he was alive, but he doesn’t ask.

He doesn’t ask a lot of things – he very specifically steers clear of anything relating to Ryan’s life or death, he only asks about his life as a ghost.

One day, two months into them (knowingly) living together, Jeremy decides to try his luck.

“What did you do before you died?” Jeremy asks, figuring it an innocent enough question, but Ryan tenses.

“Why do you want to know?” Ryan asks, voice hard, and Jeremy frowns.

“I’m just curious,” He says, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t,” Ryan says, answer short and curt in a way Jeremy’s never heard Ryan sound before.

Jeremy doesn’t apologize, and Ryan disappears a few minutes later.

Jeremy doesn’t try asking about his life again after that.

 

A little over two months into their arrangement, Jeremy’s boss at Rooster Teeth, Joel, approaches him and tells him about a job he needs him to do. It’s not the first lone job he’s done for Rooster Teeth in the months he’s been with them, but it’s the first one that will take him out of town for multiple days.

It’s an important one, too, having something to do with what Matt’s been prepping for since they were first hired – not something he can turn down.

Which wouldn’t normally be a problem, except Matt is too busy working and Trevor is also away on a job, leaving no one to take care of Jeremy’s cats while he’s out of town. No one except Ryan, that is, but Jeremy isn’t sure how the ghost will feel about taking care of his cats for five days, especially since all but Zipper still hate him.

“Hey, Ry,” Jeremy greets when the ghost appears while he’s eating dinner that night. He had started calling him that only the past couple days, but the ghost never complained, so Jeremy figured it was fine.

“Jeremy,” Ryan greets back with a nod. He has a strange look in his eye, like he knows Jeremy wants something – Jeremy wouldn’t doubt he does, because he’s strangely intuitive. He puts that in the back of his mind to ask later, if it’s a ghost thing or just a him thing.

“So, I have to go away for a couple of days for work,” Jeremy begins, “And I was wondering if you could maybe look after the cats for me?”

Ryan frowns at him for a moment, “They don’t like me.”

“Zipper does,” Jeremy argues, but Ryan’s frown just deepens.

“Couldn’t Matt or Trevor do it?” Ryan asks, and Jeremy shakes his head.

“They’re both busy with work,” Jeremy tells him, “Please, Ryan, you’re my only hope.”

“Okay,” Ryan sighs, “This isn’t Star Wars, you don’t have to be so dramatic. Of course I’ll take care of your cats – I just don’t think _they’ll_ be happy about it.”

“They’ll be happy they’re getting food at all,” Jeremy tells him firmly, and Ryan chuckles.

“Alright, sure,” He says, “Just portion out the food ahead of time so I don’t have to use all my energy feeding them.”

“Sure thing,” Jeremy agrees, flashing Ryan a thankful grin, which Ryan returns with a small smile of his own.

 

So, Jeremy portions out the cat food and leaves it for Ryan to feed them over the five days he’s gone, and he thinks everything is going to be fine. Of course, that’s probably why everything ends up _not_ being fine.

After five days of working, Jeremy just wanted to go home, cuddle with his cats, and _rest_. When he gets home, however, it’s obvious that that’s not something that can happen, because his house is _trashed_.

The couch is flipped over, there’s broken plates and glasses scattered around the kitchen and living room, all the succulents have been knocked off of their resting places, and the books Jeremy had bought Ryan are _shredded_.

“What the fuck,” He mutters as he reaches behind himself to pull his pistol out of the waistband of his jeans.

“Ryan?” He calls, stepping farther into the house. A quick look tells him that no major things have gone missing, but he can’t think of why someone would just—

“I’m sorry,” A quiet voice cuts through Jeremy’s thoughts, and he whirls around to find Ryan there, looking a lot like the way he had when Jeremy had revealed how long he had been dead – more transparent than usual, with downcast eyes and slumped shoulders.

“What?” Jeremy asks, dumbly, and Ryan looks anywhere but at him.

“I didn’t mean to,” He says, so soft Jeremy can barely hear him at all, “I just—I don’t know what happened. It got too much and things just started flying around and smashing and then— And then everything went black, and now I’m back, and… I’m sorry.”

“You did this?” Jeremy asks slowly, trying to wrap his head around Ryan’s words. The ghost nods miserably. “Are my cats okay?” Jeremy asks, and Ryan suddenly looks stricken, and Jeremy feels like his heart has stopped.

“I don’t know,” Ryan whispers, “I- This only happened on the fourth day, so unless…” His voice trails off, but Jeremy knows what he isn’t saying. _Unless I killed them._

“Scooter!” Jeremy calls, holding his breath and waiting, hoping, to hear the resounding meow that always comes.

When they hear nothing, Ryan looks like he’s about to cry and Jeremy has to swallow a lump in his throat before walking forward. He checks the living room first, moving around broken glass and ceramic, then the kitchen, then makes his way towards the hall.

The first thing he notices is the bathroom door closed, which is odd because the cat litter is in there and so Jeremy always leaves it open. He holds his breath as he pushes the door open, and—

And his cats come spilling out, all three of them weaving around his legs and meowing loudly, obviously hungry but otherwise perfectly fine.

“Are they okay?” Ryan asks quietly from behind Jeremy, and Jeremy looks over his shoulder at the worried looking ghost.

“They’re fine,” Jeremy assures him, “Hungry, but fine. I guess you somehow managed to lock them in when you… Did whatever you did.”

“Thank god,” Ryan breathes, and Jeremy allows himself a small smile.

After that, Jeremy goes about feeding his cats and gets started on cleaning up the broken glass, ceramic, and spilled soil, all while Ryan hovers behind him, spewing apologies.

“Ryan,” Jeremy finally snaps, “Would you just shut up?”

“Sorry,” Ryan says again, voice small, and Jeremy wants to both punch him and comfort him, but right now he’s too tired for either.

“Just… Go, would you?” Jeremy sighs, his tiredness leaking through in his voice.

Ryan bites his lip, looking like he wants to say something before he ducks his head and nods silently. With that, he’s gone, and Jeremy is left to clean alone and in silence.

 

The next day, Jeremy wakes up at noon to find Ryan skulking outside of his bedroom, looking unsure and apologetic, and Jeremy suddenly feels bad for snapping at the ghost the night before.

Sure, he had wrecked Jeremy’s house, but he didn’t do it on _purpose_ , and he looked genuinely sorry for it. Besides, he didn’t seem to even know why it had happened, or how he had done what he had done.

“Ryan,” Jeremy says, slipping past him and into the hallway. The ghost hovers behind him anxiously as he makes his way towards the kitchen.

“I really am sorry, Jeremy,” Ryan says quietly while Jeremy starts putting together a bowl a cereal with one of his two remaining bowls.

“I know,” Jeremy sighs, sparing Ryan a glance. The ghost still looks miserable. “I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I just— I don’t understand. What _happened_ , Ry?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan’s voice is high in distress, “I think… I think it was because you were gone.”

It was admitted so reluctantly, so carefully, that Jeremy finally turns his full attention to the ghost.

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asks, setting his cereal down on the counter and crossing his arms.

“I was alone for a long time,” Ryan says quietly, “It was all I’d known since I… died. Then you came along, and I wasn’t alone anymore. Then you left, and I knew you were coming back, but something in me just… I don’t know. I just lost control.”

Jeremy studies the ghost for a moment – the miserable hunch of his shoulders, the apologetic look in his eyes, the way he looks as though he’s bracing himself for rejection, and—

And Jeremy can’t bring himself to feel angry. He can’t bring himself to feel anything other than sorry for the ghost, because it makes sense. He had been alone for four years, had refused to let anyone in for four years, and now he had found some kind of companionship in Jeremy, only for Jeremy to go away.

Jeremy doesn’t understand much about ghosts, and it seems as though Ryan isn’t exactly a well of information either, but he _does_ understand what it’s like to feel alone, and how overwhelming the loneliness can feel.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Jeremy tells him, voice soft, and Ryan finally looks up to meet his eyes.

“Yeah?” He asks, unsure, and Jeremy offers a grin.

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you find any mistakes or anything!


	4. Chapter 4

On a day off, Jeremy goes to the library and picks up as many books about ghosts as he can. He tries to pick ones that look more legitimate, but he’s not sure if _any_ of them are. He figures it’s worth a shot, though, so he goes through the process of getting a library card and carries home ten books.

Normally, he would be worried about walking home carrying items, but he’s pretty sure no one’s going to try to rob a bunch of ghost books, so he’s not too worried, and his house is surprisingly close to one of the rundown libraries in Los Santos so it’s not like he has a long walk ahead of him, either.

When he gets home, Ryan is nowhere to be seen, so he dumps the books on his (new) coffee table and goes to grab his laptop.

By the time he’s seated on his couch and his, admittedly old, laptop is booted up, Ryan appears behind him.

“What’s with the books?” He asks, and Jeremy cranes his neck to look at him.

“I figured we could look up some info about ghosts,” Jeremy says carefully, suddenly realizing he might be overstepping.

“Oh,” Ryan says, stepping (floating?) forward around the couch to study the books, “You realize most of these are probably bullshit, right?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy sighs, “But I figure it’s better than nothing, right?”

“I guess,” Ryan agrees, “So how are we going to do this?”

“I figured you could read the books and I could try to find info online,” Jeremy tells him, “You just tell me any info you find that might be useful and I’ll write it down.”

Ryan nods, moving to sit (float?) cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, pulling the book on the top of the pile towards him.

They both work mostly in silence, the only sounds filling the room the occasional turn of a page or click of the keyboard. Every once in a while Ryan will pipe up with something for Jeremy to write down, and he does so diligently.

After a couple hours, a ping comes from Jeremy’s laptop, warning him that the battery is low, so he goes and grabs his charger and plugs it in, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Okay,” Jeremy says once his laptop is charging, “I think we should go over what we’ve got so far.”

Ryan doesn’t speak, but he nods, so Jeremy opens up the document he had been recording the information in.

They go through the information slowly, deleting things that don’t add up and agreeing on the things that actually make sense. Ryan says most of what he read was bullshit, but some of it seemed to match with his experience.

In the end, they have very little information, and no information on what Jeremy was actually looking for.

He wanted to find information about ghosts to help Ryan, of course, but a part of him was also hoping he would find some kind of information on the nightmares he keeps having. He couldn’t find anything, but he thinks there _must_ be a connection, because he didn’t have any nightmares on his trip out of town.

Or maybe it was just some kind of placebo thing, where he expects the nightmares to happen because he’s being haunted. That doesn’t explain why they get worse when Ryan gets upset, or why he wakes up with splitting headaches, though.

Jeremy is _sure_ the nightmares have something to do with Ryan, and he’s assuming he’s reliving the ghost’s death in his dreams, even though he’s left with no memory of exactly what happened when he wakes.

He can’t help but wonder what might have happened to Ryan to cause that kind of head pain, though – did he have a brain tumor? A stroke? That would make sense, since he said he died by the back door. From Jeremy’s limited knowledge of strokes, he thinks a stroke could have done that. Though, he’s not actually sure if strokes cause headaches.

Or maybe it was something else, something darker. Maybe a robber had broken in and shot him; maybe a friend hit him over the back of the head. All Jeremy has is _maybes_ and he wants _answers_ , but—

But Jeremy’s curiosity doesn’t override Ryan’s right to privacy, especially regarding his death, and the ghost has been obviously avoiding the subject since they first met, so Jeremy doesn’t want to push him.

He doesn’t think Ryan would haunt him, anymore, if he accidentally pushes too far. He thinks Ryan has grown to like him, even if he does have issues letting people in. If Ryan were alive, Jeremy would probably consider them friends. But he’s not, and Jeremy’s not sure enough where he stands to ask anything too personal.

Instead, he goes over the information they found with Ryan:

Ghosts, it seems, are spirits who are anchored to the world for one reason or another – some kind of strong attachment keeping them stuck here (Ryan doesn’t like that word, says he doesn’t feel _stuck_. He doesn’t elaborate on that, though, and Jeremy is once again left wondering.) No one knows why, or how, or why they can interact with objects, or how. There’s no consistency with those questions, every source saying something different.

In the end, they don’t learn much and still have no explanation for Ryan’s incident the other day. Jeremy can’t help but feel as though it’s his fault they end up more frustrated than they began – Ryan hadn’t expressed any urge to look into his situation, after all. Jeremy was the one that decided they should research it, and he didn’t even get any of the answers he was looking for.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy sighs, slumping back on the couch.

“Why?” Ryan asks, cocking his head at Jeremy from where he’s still seated on the floor.

“It was my idea to look into this and we found nothing,” Jeremy tells him, but Ryan just shakes his head.

“It was a good idea,” Ryan assures him, “We might not have found anything useful, but… You cared enough to look, and I appreciate that.”

“Y’know,” Jeremy says slowly, “They said there’s something keeping you stuck here, right? What if that thing is the reason you can’t leave the house, and if we found what’s keeping you here then—”

“No,” Ryan cuts Jeremy off, voice cold.

“ _Why_ , Ryan?” Jeremy asks, growing frustrated. He has barely slept all week, too plagued with nightmares to sleep long, and he just wants _answers_ , “What was so bad about your life that you don’t want to talk about it _at all_?”

“Jeremy,” Ryan’s voice is cold now, “Stop while you’re ahead.”

“No,” Jeremy knows he sounds like a child, but at the moment he doesn’t care, “If we’re going to be housemates I want you to _talk_ to me.”

“Jeremy,” The growl in Ryan’s voice finally makes Jeremy freeze, “I said stop.”

With that, Jeremy deflates, because he knows he’s pushed to hard, knows he’s going to have to make up for it.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy apologizes again, “I just—I haven’t been getting much sleep. It must be starting to get to me.”

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, and the concern on his face cements the fact that he has no idea about Jeremy’s nightmares.

“I’m fine,” Jeremy lies, and Ryan doesn’t look like he believes him, but he doesn’t argue.

“You should go to bed,” Ryan suggests, nodding at the clock that reads that’s its 8 o’clock at night, “An early night might help.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy nods, “Maybe.”

 

An early night didn’t help, and it was time for the heist Matt had been preparing for since they joined Rooster Teeth, and Jeremy should have known it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in sleep deprived, but he did it anyway.

It was fine, for a while. They managed to get through the heist without issue, it was the escape that was the problem. Jeremy was on his own, which wasn’t a problem until it was.

Jeremy was meant to be one of a few distractions while the rest of the crew got away with their target, except he turned out to be a little too good of a distraction and ended up with a bullet wound in his shoulder and his head bashed into the windshield of the car he was driving.

He doesn’t know how he managed it, but he finds himself stumbling into his house barely conscious with no idea if there’s anyone coming after him. He thinks, from his limited memory of the past hour, that he got away, stumbling through dark streets and ducking in alleyways, and he thinks that, even in this state, he wouldn’t do anything as reckless as leading the police right to his house, but most of his memory is blacked out and he isn’t sure of anything.

“Jeremy?” A voice, muddled, makes it to his ears, and he lifts his head, vision blurred as he struggles to focus on who’s talking to him.

 _Ryan_ , he thinks, because who else?

“Jeremy,” The voice sounds firmer, now, and a little more panicked, and Jeremy wants to reassure the ghost, but he’s not sure he can. He realizes, suddenly, that he’s on the floor, and idly wonders how he got there.

“Jeremy,” Ryan repeats, and Jeremy can really hear the panic now, “Where’s your phone?”

“Pocket,” Jeremy replies, or tries to reply, his voice coming out slurred and he’s not sure he made any sense, so he starts pawing at his pocket until he’s able to drag his phone out, glad it’s on the side of his uninjured shoulder.

Jeremy feels something cold brush against his hand before his phone disappears, and he wonders if that was Ryan. He’s never touched the ghost before, has no idea what it feels like, but he imagines it’d be cold, like that.

Jeremy hears a robotic voice, and then Ryan’s again, and he wonders what Ryan’s doing with his phone but his head is too far away to focus on it anymore, and he feels himself drifting away until something cold slaps him, like someone nailed him in the face with a snowball.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep, Jeremy,” Ryan’s voice growls out, and he sounds mad but there’s something else in his voice and Jeremy thinks he might be scared but he can’t think clearly enough to wonder why.

Jeremy finds himself fading in and out, Ryan’s voice going with it, though he can’t make out anything the ghost is saying, until suddenly there’s a slam and hands on his face, but they’re _warm_ and they can’t be Ryan’s, and—

“Jeremy,” Matt’s voice breaks through his fog, and he blinks his eyes open (when did they close?) to find Matt leaning over him, Trevor hovering behind him.

“Matt,” Jeremy manages to slur before promptly passing out.

 

Jeremy wakes up to a pounding head and a dark room. He doesn’t know how long he was out, but he can think clearly enough and actually remember most of the events of the night before, minus his way home.

A glance around shows he’s in his bed, and someone pulled the curtains closed. There’s no one in the room with him, but he’s sure Matt or Trevor must be hanging out somewhere in his house, still. They just aren’t the kind of people to abandon someone with a concussion, especially when they’re passed out.

Ryan isn’t there, which doesn’t surprise Jeremy, if Matt and Trevor are still around, but he can’t help the disappointment that sits in his gut at the revelation.

He gets up slowly, noticing the Advil and water on his bedside table once he’s in a sitting position and quickly taking that before standing up.

His head hurts, and it’ll take a while for the Advil to kick in, but he’s never been one to be held down, so he forces his feet to move as he makes his way towards his bedroom door.

Outside his bedroom, the world is bright and makes his eyes hurt and head pound even more, but he pushes through with a deep breath and walks forward towards the living room, where he can already see Matt and Trevor’s heads over the back of his couch.

“Hey,” He says when he’s close enough, his voice coming out more of a strained croak, but he’s loud enough for them to hear because they both whip around at the sound.

“Jeremy!” Trevor exclaims, jumping to his feet, Matt close behind as they make their way towards Jeremy. Once close enough, Trevor grabs his upper arms, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Jeremy informs him, not seeing any reason to lie or sugarcoat it.

“We weren’t sure if we should take you to the hospital or not,” Matt pipes up from behind Trevor, and Jeremy understands why they didn’t, with everything that had gone down, and doesn’t hold it against them even though he knows he definitely should have gone to the hospital with the undeniable concussion he has.

“We were really worried about you, Jeremy,” Trevor tells him, and Jeremy can see the worry still lingering in his eyes and suddenly feels bad.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy tells him, honestly, even though there wasn’t exactly much he could have done about the situation.

“Yeah,” Matt says, “And what was up with that Ryan guy that called us? He wasn’t here when we showed up, and you’ve never said anything about him before.”

“Ryan?” Jeremy repeats, and both nod.

“Some guy named Ryan called Matt last night,” Trevor tells him, “That’s how we knew to come.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says, and it makes sense, and he can remember giving his phone to Ryan, but he hadn’t really thought about it.

“So, who is he?” Matt asks, “And why did he jump ship so quickly after calling? We didn’t exactly take long to get here.”

Jeremy pauses for a moment, his thoughts moving slower than they would normally, and he struggles to come up with an excuse, because he doesn’t think telling them Ryan is a ghost would be a great idea at the moment, even with his head as messed up as it is.

“He feeds my cats when I’m working,” Jeremy tells them, and it’s not exactly a lie, “He was probably here feeding them when I got home, but didn’t want to get involved. He doesn’t know what I do, but it’s Los Santos, so.”

“Oh,” Trevor says, looking disappointing, “I was hoping for something a bit juicier.”

“ _Trevor_ ,” Jeremy hisses, and the other man holds up his hands.

“What? I was!”

“I hate you,” Jeremy informs him, and Trevor laughs.

 

Trevor and Matt don’t leave until late that night, hovering and unwilling to leave him on his own.

“If anything was going to happen, it would have happened by now,” Jeremy reasons when Trevor worries over his concussion, until the other man finally relents.

“Call us if you need anything,” Trevor tells him sternly, and Jeremy salutes him.

“Yes, sir,” He says, and Trevor glares at him.

“I’m being serious, asshole,” Trevor tells him, and Jeremy sighs.

“ _Yes_ , I know, I’ll call you guys if I need anything,” Jeremy tells him, and Trevor claps him on his (uninjured) shoulder.

“See you, then,” Matt says, waving as he starts walking out the door, dragging Trevor with him, the latter looking like he still doesn’t want to leave Jeremy on his own.

Jeremy knows he’ll be fine though, because from his minimal first aid training he’s pretty sure he’s out of the ballpark with his concussion, and he has Ryan.

 _Ryan_ , who called Matt when Jeremy stumbled into the house with a gunshot wound and concussion.

Ryan, who Jeremy had never told exactly what it is that he does for a living.

Ryan, who possibly could have died at the hands of a criminal.

Ryan, who Jeremy doesn’t know how will react.

“Hey,” a quiet voice comes from behind Jeremy, and he whips around, wincing in pain when he moves too fast.

“Ryan,” He breaths, seeing the ghost standing (floating?) in front of him.

“Jeremy,” Ryan returns, then hesitates, “I’m really glad you’re okay. I was really worried.”

Jeremy doesn’t know what to say, because a lot has happened and Jeremy has no doubt that Ryan listened in on them when Trevor and Matt were around, so he has to know what Jeremy does for a living now, and Jeremy can’t just ignore that fact.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy tells him, genuinely, “That I busted in on you like that and for not telling you what I do, and how dangerous it is, and—”

“Jeremy,” Ryan cuts him off, “It’s okay. Shit happens. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Ryan is taking it a lot better than Jeremy thought he would and—

And that gives him more unknowns when it comes to Ryan’s life.

Why was he so casual about Jeremy stumbling in injured to hell? Was he friends with criminals when he was alive? Was _he_ a criminal?

But no – that last one didn’t fit, because Ryan was… Ryan. There was no way he was a criminal when he was alive. He was too sweet for that – he could recite at least ten succulents off the top of his head, and he had spent the entire time since their agreement trying to soothe Jeremy’s cats into liking him.

Ryan just wasn’t the criminal type, but Jeremy could see him being friends with criminals – it was hard not to be, in Los Santos. And Ryan’s reaction – he was sweet, and cared a lot, and Jeremy could see him helping out friends who got themselves injured.

That was all it was, Jeremy told himself, and honestly believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Jeremy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this story is taking a lot longer to write than I originally planned, but I promise I'm still working on it and it's going to get finished. That being said, enjoy the chapter and thank you so much for all the support.

Jeremy is forced into a two week leave from work after Matt and Trevor tell his boss, Joel, what happened. It’s not the bullet wound they care about – those are something that are stitched up and shrugged off in their line of work, but apparently a concussion is ‘very serious’ and Joel doesn’t want him messing up his brain by coming back to work too soon.

While most people would jump at the chance at a leave from work, it just makes Jeremy restless, especially with Ryan hovering over him.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Ryan tells him every time he tries to do _anything_.

Watching TV? _The light is bad, Jeremy, you can’t do that._

Doing something on his laptop? _The blue light, Jeremy!_

Reading? _You’ll strain your eyes, Jeremy._

Exercising? _You shouldn’t move so much, Jeremy._

Literally every possible thing Jeremy could do to pass his time Ryan objects to, and if he didn’t like the ghost so much – and he wasn’t, you know, a ghost – he probably would have punched him by now.

But, unfortunately, he _does_ like the ghost, so he doesn’t punch him. Not that he thinks punching him could have done anything, anyway.

Instead, he lies in bed in his dark room and _thinks_. Mostly, unsurprisingly, about Ryan.

More specifically, about who Ryan is.

The ghost isn’t exactly very open about his life, and it leaves Jeremy with nothing but a gnawing curiosity that only grows as he lies around his house during his leave.

He’s always been curious about Ryan, but it’s been growing with the nightmares and headaches and Ryan’s ability to stay so calm when faced with someone with serious injuries.

Because Ryan hasn’t asked a single thing about the fact that Jeremy is clearly a criminal, doesn’t seem affected in the slightest by the fact and that- that isn’t exactly _uncommon_ in a place like Los Santos, but something about it leaves Jeremy with something nagging at the back of his head.

In the end, Jeremy doesn’t have to do anything, because it’s Ryan who approaches him. He’s eating dinner on his couch when the ghost appears in front of him, looking unsure.

“Hey, Ry,” Jeremy greets him, eyeing him carefully.

“I was thinking about the other day,” Ryan goes straight to the point, “About you wanting to know more about me- about my life. And you’re right – we’re housemates now, and you deserve to know more about me.”

“You don’t have to,” Jeremy tells him honestly, because as much as he wants to know he doesn’t want to push the ghost. He had just been overtaken by frustration the other day, when he yelled at him.

“I want to,” Ryan tells him, almost shyly, and Jeremy bites back a smile.

Ryan moves so he’s sitting on the couch next to Jeremy, and Jeremy turns his head to watch him as the ghost stares down at his translucent hands resting on his thighs.

“I was part of a crew,” Ryan tells him slowly, carefully, “I’ll spare you the details of what things were like – I’m sure you probably have a good idea, considering. Before the crew, though, I was a mercenary. A good one. I did a lot of bad things for a lot of money. I wasn’t a good person, Jeremy. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you about who I was.”

And that- that feels like a shock to Jeremy’s system, because he had been _so sure_ there was no way Ryan could have been involved in the life of crime that runs rampant in Los Santos. Ryan, who loves succulents and sci-fi books.

He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, because in hindsight, why else would Ryan be so careful about not talking about his life, but he can’t help but feel blindsided.

“I was shot, that’s how I died,” Ryan continues like Jeremy’s image of him isn’t crumbling around him, “Right in the back of the head. Didn’t even get a chance to feel any pain.”

“That’s… good,” Jeremy says, and it’s true, because Jeremy has felt the echo of that pain thanks to his nightmares, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

They fall into silence for a few minutes, and Jeremy watches as Ryan begins to fidget, but can’t seem to find any words. He was _so sure_ Ryan was just a civilian and—

And what? He was still Ryan, still the nerdy ghost Jeremy had met that had somehow managed to scare out tenants for four years with tactics so shitty that Jeremy hadn’t even noticed. Still a man who had been alone for far too long.

“Are we okay?” Ryan asks quietly, and Jeremy’s head jerks up.

“Are we- _of course_ we’re okay, you idiot,” Jeremy tells him, “I was just… processing things.”

“You’re part of a crew, too, Jeremy,” Ryan points out, and Jeremy rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, but you’re, y’know, _you,_ ” Jeremy argues dumbly, and Ryan laughs.

“What does that even mean?”

“Oh, shut up.”

And Jeremy knows everything is going to be okay, because no matter what Ryan was in life, he’s still _Ryan_ , and Jeremy doesn’t have much room to speak, anyway.

He does still have questions, though, a lot of things left unanswered.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Jeremy asks, and Ryan eyes him carefully for a moment before nodding, “What crew were you a part of? Would I recognize it?”

“You’d recognize it,” Ryan tells him, his voice certain, but Jeremy doesn’t miss the way he tenses up and avoids the first question, so he decides to move on. Ryan will tell him when he’s ready, Jeremy truly believes that now, “And go ahead and ask anything, but I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“You said you were a mercenary before you joined your crew,” Jeremy starts, and Ryan nods tensely, “Were you well-known, or a small fry?”

“Well-known.”

“So you were good?”

“At killing people? Yes. At other stuff? Not so much.”

“Well, that’s probably the best skill for a criminal to have, at least,” Jeremy jokes, and Ryan lets out a tense laugh.

“Probably,” He agrees, and seems to be relaxing slightly.

Jeremy has to admit – he’s curious. Ryan says he was well-known, but a lot of well-known mercenaries come and go, either because their fate catches up to them or they move for better opportunities. There’s not really much to go off of to figure out who Ryan was, but he has a feeling Ryan’s doing that on purpose.

He tries to think of any well-known mercenaries that actually joined a crew full time and weren’t just for hire, but the only one that comes to mind is the Vagabond, and- well, obviously Ryan’s not the Vagabond.

He thinks that if he had actually lived in Los Santos while Ryan was still alive, he probably could have been able to figure it out, but as it was at least four years had past since Ryan left the life of a mercenary to join a crew, and the only Los Santos crew Jeremy every really kept an eye on was the Fake AH Crew.

He thinks that it’s probably a good thing he can’t figure it out, though, because Ryan deserves his privacy, no matter how curious Jeremy might be.

“One more question,” Jeremy says, something coming to mind. It’s a lie, really, because he has _so many_ more questions, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm the ghost. He can wait. “Is there anyone you want me to contact for you? From when you were alive?”

There’s silence for a few minutes, and Jeremy begins to worry he was out of line to offer when Ryan finally speaks.

“Not right now,” Ryan says slowly, “But… Maybe one day?”

“Sure thing, buddy,” Jeremy says, “You just say when.”

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Ryan says, his voice genuine and badly hiding how emotional he feels.

“No problem, Ry,” Jeremy tells him, reaching up to clap him on the shoulder. It’s only at the last moment that he remembers Ryan is, y’know, a ghost, and fully expects his hand to just go through.

Which is why he is left in a frozen state of shock when his hand actually makes contact.

It didn’t feel quite like touching another human – it was cold, but not so much that it was uncomfortable. It felt almost like the kind of cold you would feel from wind in the spring, rather than the sharp cold of winter. It was also strange and solid under his hand in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend or explain – like his body was telling him there was nothing there while his brain was telling him there was.

“I’m touching you,” Jeremy says dumbly, and Ryan snorts.

“Yeah, you are,” He says, and Jeremy shoots him a glare.

“You gonna explain how I’m doing this, then, jerk?”

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. I wasn’t sure if I could touch other living things until the other day, when you got injured and I had to slap you awake.”

“I remember that,” Jeremy tells him, “It felt like being pelted in the face with a snowball.”

“Sorry,” Ryan winces slightly, then, “…How does it feel now?”

“Weird,” Jeremy tells him honestly, “Cool, but not cold, and it’s kinda like I’m touching something that’s not really there?”

“I guess that’s because I’m technically not, being a ghost and all.”

“True,” Jeremy agrees, “What does it feel like to you?”

“Like normal human touch, like when I was alive,” Ryan tells him, and there’s something breathy in it, something relieved, and Jeremy is once again hit by the fact Ryan’s been alone for four long years, “There’s no warmth, though.”

“Well, this is an interesting development,” Jeremy says after a moment of a silence, and Ryan laughs.

“Yeah,” Ryan replies, “If only your cats would let me pet them, now that we know that I can.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to convince Zipper soon enough,” Jeremy assures him, and Ryan gives a determined nod.

“I’m gonna touch that cat,” Ryan says confidently, and Jeremy laughs.

“Maybe don’t say it like that, buddy.”

 

Jeremy’s gotten a lot of answers about Ryan’s life, now, and while he’s still struggling to connect the dorky ghost with the life of a mercenary, he’s glad Ryan’s finally opened up to him.

The one thing about it that he _isn’t_ glad about is that he’s now aware of how Ryan died – not the details, because he’s not sure Ryan wants to give those, not sure the ghost wants to relive the final moments of his life, wants to be reminded of whoever it was that shot him in the back of the head.

The _problem_ with being aware of how Ryan died is that now the nightmares have become more vivid and Jeremy actually remembers bits of them. What he remembers of them is filled with shouting and panic and everything Jeremy doesn’t want to feel.

The headaches haven’t gotten better, but they haven’t gotten worse, either. He doesn’t know how he feels about the fact that he’s feeling what it would be like to get shot in the back of the head – had hoped he would never know that feeling.

He’s glad Ryan never got to know the feeling, though, not when the nightmares tell Jeremy just how terrible the last things he must remember are, and he suspects his nightmares might be watered down compared to what it must have actually been like to experience. He thinks the ghost deserves some reprieve, at least.

He considers telling Ryan about the nightmares after their little heart-to-heart, but ultimately decides against it. He doesn’t think anything good could come from it – Ryan would most likely feel guilty and pull away, despite it not actively being his fault.

No, it was better for Jeremy to just stay quiet about it, to suffer through it on his own.

Luckily, the headaches don’t last long, but the nightmares linger in his thoughts every time he goes on a job – the amount of panic Ryan had felt, the absolute fear that consumed him, it haunts Jeremy.

Ryan probably wasn’t a good guy, in life – he was a mercenary, no mercenary was good. But he was genuine, and cared, and was a nice guy, and Jeremy doesn’t think that he deserved that kind of death.

So, the nightmares haunt him in a way Ryan couldn’t on his own, and he _needs_ to talk to someone about them, he knows that, but he can’t do that without telling someone else about Ryan, and he’s not sure that Ryan would be okay with that.

In the end, everything becomes too overwhelming, and when Matt and Trevor pull him aside one day after a job to ask if he’s okay, everything comes spilling out.

“Hold up,” Matt says, raising a hand once Jeremy is done blurting out everything from how he first met Ryan to their recent conversation to the nightmares, “You’re telling us there’s a _ghost_ in your house?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jeremy says, aware he’s probably sounding crazy, but he there’s nothing he can really do about that.

“And you’re having nightmares about this ghost’s death?” Trevor asks slowly, and Jeremy nods, “Okay- I. Okay.”

“I know you guys don’t believe me, but—” Jeremy’s cut off by Matt.

“Oh, I believe you,” Matt assures him, “But ghosts are nothing to fuck with, Jeremy. If there’s one in your house you should really get it exorcised or whatever the fuck it is you do to get rid of ghosts.”

“No,” Jeremy says immediately, “You don’t understand, he’s a good guy. We have an arrangement. I like him—and out of the three of us, who here has the most experience with ghosts?”

“Okay,” Trevor steps in, “Let’s not argue. Say we believe you, Jeremy, and this ghost is a good guy, what are we supposed to do about it if you don’t want to get rid of him?”

“I just…” Jeremy sighs, “I just want to talk to someone about it.”

“Well, can we meet him?” Trevor asks, “We don’t really have any experience with ghosts, obviously, but maybe if we met him we could see if we have any kind of reaction like your nightmares?”

Jeremy bites his lip, hesitating, before nodding slowly.

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” Jeremy tells him, “And I don’t know if he’ll agree, but I’ll ask.”

“Good,” Trevor nods, “We’ll help you figure this out, Jeremy. We’re here for you.”

Jeremy nods, then turns to Matt, biting his lip because even though Trevor used the word _we’re_ he’s not so sure Matt is in agreement with the other man.

“Yeah, man,” Matt says without hesitation, “I mean, I don’t really fuck with ghosts, but if you say this one’s good, I’ll take your word for it. It’s just… a lot to take in, I guess.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Jeremy huffs out a laugh, but he’s glad his friends are on his side. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such inconsistent updates, but he's a new chapter.

A couple days after Jeremy told Matt and Trevor about Ryan, he decides to broach the subject of meeting them to Ryan.

“So,” Jeremy begins carefully while cooking dinner, the ghost leaning against the counter next to the stove, “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to meet Matt and Trevor – or have them meet you, I guess, since you already know them.”

Jeremy doesn’t look at Ryan, pointedly focusing on his cooking, but he doesn’t miss the way the ghost hesitates before speaking.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He asks, and Jeremy picks up an underlying nervousness in his voice.

Jeremy has to remind himself that he’s the first person that Ryan has talked to in four years, and he can’t forget the fact that the guy is a ghost. Ryan’s nervousness is justified – he only knows the two in passing, and has no idea how they’ll react to meeting a ghost.

“They’re good guys,” Jeremy assures him, turning off the stove and turning to face Ryan, “They’re my friends, and I think you would really like them.”

Jeremy might be lying a little bit, because he’s not exactly sure that’s true. He seems like he might get along with Trevor, but he’s not so sure how well he would get on with Matt. Telling him that wouldn’t convince him to meet them, though, so what’s a little white lie in the grand scheme of things?

Jeremy watches Ryan bite his lip, glad he’s at least thinking it over, and moves to serve his food, giving Ryan some more time as he eats.

Finally, when Jeremy’s about halfway through his meal, Ryan speaks.

“Okay,” He says, and Jeremy’s head jerks over to look at him.

“Okay?” He repeats, and Ryan nods.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll meet them.”

 

“Okay guys,” Jeremy says as he, Matt, and Trevor sit in his car outside of his house, “Ryan doesn’t know about the nightmares, so under no circumstance are you to mention them, okay?”

“Got it,” Matt tells him, and Trevor nods along with him.

“Okay,” Jeremy breaths out, taking a deep breath before opening the car door and climbing out, Matt and Trevor doing the same.

He isn’t quite sure why he’s so nervous – he’s never been nervous about introducing friends to each other in the past. He supposes it’s different because Ryan is, well, _Ryan_. He’s not the kind of guy who likes new people, and Jeremy _really_ wants him to get along with Matt and Trevor, because he thinks it would be good for him to have more people to talk to.

Also because he considers Ryan his friend, and he likes when his friends get along.

Jeremy’s startled out of his thoughts by a hand clapping him on the shoulder.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Lil’ J,” Trevor tells him, and Jeremy nods.

“Right,” He says, stepping forward and going to open the front door.

The three of them spill in, and Jeremy looks around for Ryan, but doesn’t see the ghost anywhere. He’s not sure exactly what the ghost is doing, since he was well aware Jeremy had gone to pick up Matt and Trevor, but he just hopes whatever it is isn’t anything _too_ terrible.

“Ryan?” He calls, and it takes a minute, but soon enough the ghost appears.

Right behind them.

“Hello,” Ryan greets them, making them all practically jump out of their skin.

“Ryan!” Jeremy shouts, “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Ryan tells him, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

Trevor seems to be the first to recover from the scare, turning to grin at the ghost that appeared behind him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Trevor greets, holding out a hand that Ryan hesitantly takes. Trevor’s eyes widen in surprise, and he yanks his hand back quickly, “Sorry, that was weird. I’ve never touched a ghost before.”

“No surprise there,” Ryan says, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Ryan,” Matt says, like he’s suddenly had a revelation, “You’re the one that called me when Jeremy got hurt, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Ryan replies, and Trevor’s eyes light up.

“How did you do that?” Trevor asks, the science nerd in him igniting, “I mean, I know you were just able to touch me, and I assume you’re able to touch other objects, but how were you able to work the touch screen?”

“I wasn’t,” Ryan tells him, “I used the voice control. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it would work, but ghost shows always have audio recorders that seem to pick things up, so I was just hoping things would work in my favour. And they did, obviously.”

“Interesting,” Trevor nods to himself.

“So,” Jeremy says after a moment of silence, “Ryan, I know you already know them but these are Trevor and Matt. Trevor and Matt, this is Ryan.”

Things fall into place pretty well after that – Trevor and Ryan seem to get along well, talking about what it’s like being a ghost and the semantics of things. Matt and Ryan don’t really interact, with Matt watching the ghost warily as he talks to Trevor.

Slowly, Jeremy watches as Matt begins to relax, looking interested in the conversation between Trevor and Ryan when they take a turn into discussing how Ryan interacts with electronics.

“I told you he was a good guy,” Jeremy says quietly, sidling up next to Matt.

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt waves him off, but Jeremy sees him relax a bit more.

After about an hour, things between Trevor and Ryan begin to die down and the three living decide to play some video games.

Ryan watches them play, seeming content, but Jeremy can see the look of longing in his eyes. He and Jeremy had tried having him play some video games before, but it ended up using up too much of the ghost’s energy, so he wasn’t able to join them.

A couple hours and more than enough Mario Kart later, Matt decides he’s had enough kicking their asses, and they all decide its time for him and Trevor to go home.

Ryan walks them to the door, hovering on the inside while the others walk out, and Jeremy feels a pull at his heart, knowing Ryan can’t take another step, can’t walk out the door with them.

“Hope to see you again soon, Ryan,” Trevor tells Ryan honestly, Matt nodding along with him, and Ryan blinks in surprise.

“I- yeah. Me too.”

With that, Jeremy, Matt, and Trevor climb into Jeremy’s car, all three giving Ryan one final wave before the ghost shuts the front door and Jeremy starts the engine.

“So,” Jeremy begins as he pulls out of the driveway, “What did you guys think?”

“I think you’re right that he has no idea about the nightmares,” Trevor tells him, “He seems really genuine and doesn’t seem to know a lot about ghosts – most of what we talked about was just theories. It was definitely interesting, though. Especially when we touched – that was fucking weird.”

“I liked him,” Matt says honestly, surprising Jeremy, “I didn’t talk to him much, but Trevor’s right about him seeming genuine. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to torture someone he obviously thinks of as a friend, even if he tried to haunt you at first.”

“Do you guys have any ideas about what to do about the nightmares, now that you’ve met him?” Jeremy asks hopefully.

“Honestly, I think you should talk to him about them,” Matt is, surprisingly, the one to speak up, “He’s obviously not doing it on purpose, but they might mean something. From my limited knowledge of ghosts, if you’re reliving his death every night, that _must_ mean he has some kind of unfinished business. Classic ghost stuff, really.”

“I agree with Matt,” Trevor says, “I don’t think there’s any way to go about this that doesn’t involve you talking to Ryan about it.”

Jeremy lets out a sigh, because even though he had a feeling that was the answer they were going to give, it isn’t the answer he _wants_.

 

When Jeremy gets home, Ryan is waiting for him on the couch, and even though that’s not something that’s uncommon, something about it sets off red flags in Jeremy’s mind.

“What’s up, Ry?” Jeremy asks cautiously, moving to hang his keys on the hook by the door.

The ghost watches him, looking hesitant, but there’s something almost like hope hidden in his eyes.

“I wanted to talk to you about something you said that other night,” Ryan starts hesitantly, and Jeremy nods in encouragement, “It’s just- seeing you with Trevor and Matt, it reminded me of the way things were with my crew. We were really close, even with our support team, but especially with each other. It was a pretty small crew, but also pretty powerful. And the other night you asked me if there was anyone I wanted you to contact for me, and… I think I want you to find my crew, I think I want to see them again.”

“Okay,” Jeremy replies easily, “I can do that – or I can try, at least. What was the name of your crew? Or some of your crew members?”

“I- You have to promise not to freak out, okay?” Ryan asks him, and Jeremy frowns but nods, “No, I need to hear you say it.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says slowly, “I promise I won’t freak out.”

“My crew was the Fake AH Crew,” Ryan says, and Jeremy once again feels his world shatter around him, just like when Ryan first told him he was a criminal, “I’m- I was the Vagabond.”

Jeremy’s not gonna lie, he freaks out.

“You’re- I- _what_?” He splutters, his voice going high, and Ryan cringes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but at first I thought you knew based of the house’s history, but when I realized you _didn’t_ know I was worried it would change how you see me,” Ryan says quietly as Jeremy continues to stare at him in shock.

“You’re telling me you’re the fucking _Vagabond_?” Jeremy can’t believe it. He _won’t_ believe it. There’s no possible way Ryan could be the Vagabond. He had to be lying.

“Yes,” Ryan says, looking like he’s forcing himself to stay calm, “You can look it up – this was one of our safe houses. Why do you think it was so cheap?”

“I- I don’t know,” Jeremy mutters, because it’s true – he had been so glad to find the place that he had never even stopped to consider why the house was so cheap, why the realtor all but threw the keys at him. And once he had discovered Ryan, he had thought it had just been because the ghost had been scaring people away.

He should have known, though. Ryan’s haunting tactics were shitty, and the only way someone would notice would be if they were already worried, and the _nightmares_.

God, he was reliving the _Vagabond’s_ death almost every night.

The Vagabond, who he had always followed so closely, always been so interested in. The Vagabond, who was a part of the crew Jeremy had always yearned to join.

 _Ryan_ was the Vagabond, the ruthless mercenary.

_‘I wasn’t a good person, Jeremy.’_

Yeah, that was putting it lightly. But Jeremy had always had a special interest in the Vagabond, had never really thought of him as the bad guy, because he only took targets who ended up being assholes when he was a mercenary, and once he was a part of the Fake AH Crew – well, they were a whole different story entirely.

The crew that practically ran the city, that killed seemingly without abandon but when looked into only killed those that were corrupt – aside from cops, that is, but all cops are corrupt in Los Santos, really.

The crew that just did heists for _fun_ , who ran the craziest jobs.

 _Ryan_ was a part of the Fake AH Crew.

And suddenly, none of it matters.

Because like when Ryan first told him about his life as a criminal, he was still _Ryan_ , and while it was hard to believe, he knew Ryan would never lie to him.

Besides, he could always just look it up later, just in case.

“Okay,” He says, finally calming down, and Ryan is watching him warily, like he’s a rabid animal, “So, you want me to find the Fake AH Crew and bring them to you?”

“Yes,” Ryan says carefully, with a small nod.

“I’m not saying I’m not going to try,” Jeremy says slowly, “But you do realize that’s going to be next to impossible, right?”

“Well, you said they vanished after I died, right?” Ryan asks, and Jeremy nods, “I have an idea of how you can track them down. There was a new guy in the crew, primarily an informant. I’m willing to bet he went back to freelance when the Fakes disbanded, and I knew a mercenary who wasn’t affiliated with any crew that I’m also willing to bet is still working. If you can find him and get him to find her, I think you can find the whole crew.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says, “What’s this informant guy’s name, then?”

“Alfredo Diaz.”

 _“Alfredo Diaz_?” Jeremy exclaims, “That guys impossible to find – he uses his real name, for god’s sake.”

“I know, but he was part of the crew,” Ryan reminds Jeremy, “And I didn’t know him well, but we all had individual codes, so we knew we could trust each other in case anything happened to any of us. Even though he was still pretty new, he had one.”

“Do you really remember his code?”

“Of course I do,” Ryan scoffs, “Who do you think I am, an amateur? I made sure to memorize every single one of our crew’s codes, from the main team to the support team, just in case. They weren’t exactly something you could write down.”

“But how am I supposed to find him?” Jeremy asks.

“You’re not – Matt is. You say he’s a good hacker, right?” Ryan asks, and Jeremy nods, “Then I’m sure with Rooster Teeth’s connections and his skills he can find Alfredo.”

“But Alfredo’s not going to trust me enough to meet with me, I wasn’t part of the crew, and if you talk to him he’ll probably lose his mind, given you’re supposed to be dead and all.”

“Right, but you’re forgetting he’s an informant,” Ryan says, “You tell him you’re part of Rooster Teeth and he’ll be more likely to trust you. Meet in a neutral place of his choice. He’ll have everything on you, so unless you have a _really_ sketchy past full of betrayal, he’ll trust you enough to hear you out.”

“But how do I convince him I’m telling the truth? I’ll have the code, but for all he knows I could have tortured someone for it.”

“You call me. Let me talk to him, he’ll recognize my voice.”

Jeremy lets out a sigh.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” He asks carefully, and Ryan gives him a small smile.

“No,” Ryan says honestly, “But it’s all we’ve got.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm really sorry that this story is taking so long but I _am_ still working on it and it _will_ get finished.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!

That night, Jeremy has the worst nightmare to date.

It’s the worst because it has _detail_.

In the nightmare, Jeremy hears the front door slam open and sees police swarm into the house, sees Ryan getting up from where he was lying on the floor of the living room with the rest of the main Fake AH Crew members, sees the other crew members tripping over themselves to get to the back door. He sees Ryan grab the Golden Boy off the ground when he trips and falls, sees him push the younger out the door in front of him, sees Ryan take a step closer to the exit—

Feels a piercing pain in the back of his head and wakes with a shout.

“Jeremy?” A voice says quietly from beside his bed as he lays panting, “Are you okay?”

Jeremy turns his head to see Ryan hovering next to the bed, a concerned look plastered on his face, and he forces himself to smile, though he’s sure it looks more like a grimace.

“I’m fine,” He croaks, and when Ryan gives him a skeptical look, he adds, “Just a bad dream. Happens sometimes.”

An understatement, but Ryan doesn’t have to know that – not yet. He’ll tell Ryan about the nightmares soon, but now isn’t the time. Not until they find Alfredo Diaz, at least.

He knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s putting it off- that he just _keeps_ putting it off, using every little excuse he can. He doesn’t think about that, though.

“Do you need anything?” Ryan asks softly, and Jeremy studies him for a moment.

He just witnessed the last few minutes of Ryan’s life – minutes filled with panic and fear. Minutes in which he put a crew member before himself and got a bullet to the brain for it.

“Can you stay?” He asks, quietly, like anything louder would break the moment between them. What the moment meant, exactly, Jeremy wasn’t sure, but he knew he wanted Ryan to stay, that he didn’t want to be alone with the pain in the back of his head. He didn’t want Ryan to be alone, either – not after what he had just seen.

“Of course.”

 

“I need to talk to you,” Jeremy says to Matt when he gets into work the next day, slipping into the hacker’s room.

Matt swivels around in his chair and frowns at Jeremy.

“Is this about Ryan?” He asks, “Did you talk to him about the nightmares?”

“Yes, and no,” Jeremy says, and Matt’s frown deepens.

“Why didn’t you talk to him?” Matt asks, but Jeremy just shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter – we talked about something else,” Jeremy tells him, “I need you to find someone for me.”

“Sure thing,” Matt says, dropping the nightmare topic easily, and spinning around to face his computer again, “Got a name for me?”

“Alfredo Diaz,” Jeremy says, and sees Matt freeze before slowly spinning back around to face Jeremy, his face blank, and Jeremy’s honestly concerned the other man is going to get dizzy spinning around so much.

“Alfredo Diaz?” Matt repeats, as though he heard Jeremy wrong and is waiting for a correction.

“Alfredo Diaz,” Jeremy confirms, and Matt puts his head in his hands.

“Jeremy,” He says, “Do you realize how hard it is to find someone like Alfredo Diaz?”

“Yes,” Jeremy tells him, “But I also know that if anyone can find him for me, it’s you.”

Matt lets out a sigh, “What do you need him for, anyway?”

Jeremy hesitates a moment – he can’t exactly tell Matt the truth without giving away Ryan’s identity, and while _he_ trusts Matt with his life, _Ryan_ doesn’t, and it’s not Jeremy’s secret to go telling.

“He’s an old connection of Ryan’s,” Jeremy says vaguely, “Ryan thinks he can help him get in contact with some old friends.”

Matt frowns again, but doesn’t push. He’s always been good at that – at reading between the lines and knowing when someone doesn’t want to give any more information than they already have. He’s also good at deduction, though, and while that worries Jeremy a bit in this situation, there’s not really anything he can do about it if Matt figures things out about Ryan from the vague information Jeremy feeds him.

“Is this time sensitive?” Matt asks instead, “I still have actual work to do, but I can work on tracking Alfredo during downtime, if that works. It’ll take a decent amount of time, though – he won’t be easy, the circle he works with has been pretty closed off since things fell apart with the Fake AH Crew.”

“You can take your time,” Jeremy tells him, “But this is really important to Ryan, so the quicker you can do it the better, but it doesn’t matter how long it takes so long as you find him.”

“And I’m assuming this is something you want to keep just between us?” Matt asks, and Jeremy nods.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Anything for you, Lil’ J. You’ve saved my ass enough times that this is the least I can do.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“No problem.”

 

When Jeremy gets home that night, Ryan is sitting on the couch with a look of absolute glee plastered on his face as he pets a purring Zipper.

“Jeremy,” He exclaims when he sees him come in, childish joy in his voice, “Look!”

“Yeah, buddy,” Jeremy laughs, “I see. Congrats on finally winning Zipper over. Only two cats left, now.”

“I’m gonna pet those cats one day,” Ryan tells Jeremy seriously, and Jeremy snorts.

“You go ahead and do that, pal,” Jeremy says, and Ryan gives him a soft smile before turning his attention back to Zipper.

Jeremy leans against the wall and watches the ghost stroke his cat, studies the way he focuses on Zipper’s favourite spots, the soft look on his face, and—

And maybe he shouldn’t be getting so close to the ghost, shouldn’t be letting down all his walls and inviting him into his life like this, so easily. Maybe he shouldn’t be so happy every time he comes home to find the ghost waiting for him, or feel so warmed watching his cats warm up to him.

But he’s in too deep already, and he can’t bring himself to care, because it’s _Ryan_.

Ryan, who might have been a killer when he was alive but was also sweet, and genuine, and dorky, and everything Jeremy likes in a person. Besides, Jeremy can’t hold the fact he’s killed people over the ghost’s head, considering they’re in the same line of work and Jeremy has taken his fair share of lives – albeit probably nowhere near as much as the Vagabond had.

“Jeremy?” Ryan’s voice break’s his revere, and he blinks his eyes back into focus to find the ghost watching him, head tilted slightly to the side, “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” Jeremy tells him honestly, “I’ve got Matt tracking Alfredo – he doesn’t know how long it’ll take, but it’s a step in the right direction. Sorry that this might take a while.”

“It’s fine,” Ryan says with a small smile, “I’m just… really glad you’re helping me. Matt, too, but you especially. You really don’t have to do any of this.”

“I want to,” Jeremy replies, “We’re friends, right? Friends help each other.”

“Friends,” Ryan echoes slowly, “Right. Of course.”

“Ryan,” Jeremy says carefully, “Did you not realize we were friends?”

“Well- I mean,” Ryan ducks his head, “I didn’t want to assume.”

“We’re friends, Ryan,” Jeremy tells him, “Trust me, I wouldn’t do this kind of thing for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky.”

“I do,” Ryan tells him, sounding so honest that Jeremy blinks in shock.

“I wouldn’t call being dead lucky, pal,” He reminds the ghost, but Ryan shakes his head.

“I might be dead, but I’m lucky I’m a ghost, that I have a chance to see the people I love again, even in death. Besides, I don’t know what happens in the afterlife, but I doubt I’m on the Nice List, so. This is probably better than whatever’s waiting for me on the other side.”

“That’s…” Jeremy studies Ryan for a moment, “That’s a really interesting way to put it.”

And it is – Jeremy had never considered it in that way, had always assumed being a ghost must suck. But if he died, he’d probably be relieved to be a ghost, too, rather than face whatever kind of punishment he might face in the afterlife – if there _is_ an afterlife at all. Being able to continue being with the people he cares about would just be a bonus.

Ryan was alone for four years, though, hadn’t seen anyone he cared about in life at all in that time.

It was time for that to change, and Jeremy is going to make sure that it happens.

 

Five weeks later, Jeremy gets a call at three in the morning.

“I’ll have you know,” Matt starts immediately once Jeremy blearily accepts the call, “That Alfredo Diaz is hard as dicks to find.”

“And you called me in the middle of the night to tell me this because…?” Jeremy asks, letting out a sigh as he drags a hand down his face.

“I didn’t,” Matt says as Ryan appears beside Jeremy, a look of concern on his face, “I called you in the middle of the night to tell you I found him – using a shitton of Rooster Teeth’s contacts that I technically shouldn’t even know about, but I’ve tracked down a number for you.”

“Matt,” Jeremy says reverently, suddenly fully awake, “You’re my favourite person in the world.”

“Yeah, no,” Matt replies, voice light, “Pretty sure that goes to your ghost buddy.”

Jeremy feels his face go red and splutters, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What’s going on?” Ryan prompts while Matt says, “Sure you don’t.”

“Matt,” Jeremy says, “Thank you, but goodbye.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt snorts, “I’ll text you the number using our old encryption – be careful with it.”

With that, a small tone signifies the end of the call, and Jeremy lowers the phone to grin at Ryan as a small ping goes off, signifying a new text.

“Matt found Alfredo,” Jeremy tells him, and the ghost stiffens.

“He did?” Ryan asks carefully, cautiously, and Jeremy nods, “Holy shit.”

“This is good, right?” Jeremy asks, equally as carefully, suddenly unsure.

“I- Yes, of course it is,” Ryan says, “It’s just… I don’t know.”

Jeremy tilts his head and studies the ghost for a moment – the way he suddenly looks slightly more transparent, the way his hand is twitching and face is carefully blank.

“Talk to me, Ry,” Jeremy says softly, “Tell me what’s going on.”

Ryan sighs, and Jeremy shifts over in his bed, patting the empty space next to him. Ryan gladly takes it, flopping down so he’s sitting next to Jeremy, looking relieved even though Jeremy knows it doesn’t make a difference to the ghost whether he’s sitting or standing. He thinks it’s just a habit from when he was alive.

He pushes away the quiet hope that it’s because it puts him closer to Jeremy.

“I’m happy,” Ryan says, like he’s trying to convince himself, “I think I am, at least. It’s just… I haven’t spoken to anyone but you – and now your friends – in _four years_ , Jeremy. I’ve been alone, because I wanted it to be that way. And now we know how to contact Alfredo, and we’re so much closer to getting my crew, my family, back, and… I’m scared, Jeremy.”

_Family_.

Jeremy had never heard the ghost call his crew that, in the few times they’ve talked about them. It makes sense that they would consider them that, though – everyone knew that the Fakes were close, and it was a theory that was completely solidified when they split after the Vagabond’s – after Ryan’s – death.

They must have all considered themselves family, and to have lost a family member…

Well, that’s something Jeremy’s felt, and he knows how shitty it is, how loss can tear the living apart, how it can break you down to nothing.

And Ryan hasn’t seen his family in four years, hadn’t even heard anything about them until Jeremy came along.

“That’s understandable,” Jeremy says slowly, trying to think of the right thing to say, “But this is something you want, right? So even if you’re scared, even if it terrifies you, you just have to push through, because in the end it will be worth it. You’ll get to see your _family_ again, Ryan. It’s okay if you’re scared, but don’t let that fear keep you away from them any longer than you already have been.”

Ryan turns to look at Jeremy, eyes piercing as they study him for a long moment, long enough that Jeremy begins to squirm, before he speaks.

“You’re right,” He says, “I’m the goddamn Vagabond, and I’m not going to let anything keep me away from my family, not when I’m so close.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jeremy grins, going to punch his shoulder good naturedly, only for his fist to go right through the ghost, chilling him to the bone before he yanks his hand out of him, “You did that on purpose,” He accuses with a scowl, and Ryan throws his head back and laughs.

“Did you really expect anything else?” Ryan questions, still giggling, and Jeremy watches him fondly.

“No,” He says softly, “No, I didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think/if there are any mistakes!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think/if there's any mistakes or anything!


End file.
